Behind the Beats
by rarelycanon
Summary: Spotlight on the the resident beatboxers of the Barden Bellas and the Treblemakers, Lilly and Donald.
1. Chapter 1

_Ah, you gonna take me home tonight_  
_Ah, down beside that red firelight_  
_Are you gonna let it all hang out_  
_Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round_

"Hell-o there, you've reached Bumper, awesome a capella extraordinaire."

Despite sitting at the very back seat of the bus, Donald can hear Bumper's obnoxious tone as clearly as if he was sitting right beside the driver's seat. Donald shook his head. Guessing by the ring tone and his sudden shift in body language, Bumper was probably talking to Fat Amy.

How those two ended up exchanging numbers, Donald would never know.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he could hear Bumper say, "but we're on our way to pick up our trophy at the Semi-Finals, and we really have no time to go back and pick up some losers off the road."

_Go back?_ Donald was curious. _What happened to the girls?_

"Oh, what's that? You're breaking up. Really, what? I can't hear you, buh-bye!" And with a quick flourish, Bumper hung up.

Ah, good ol' B-man. A magnificent jerkface as always.

"Who was that?"

Jesse, on the other hand, was Bumper's exact opposite.

"Oh, no one. Just Whaley Amy."

"Fat Amy?"

"Uh, yeah. But she's rather whale-like, don't you think? Fat doesn't quite cut it."

"Oh, okaaaaay. What did she want anyway? Are the Bellas okay?"

"Yup. Pretty much. Just out of gas."

"What? Out of gas? I mean, shouldn't we go help them?"

Seriously, the boy needs to work on hiding his toner for that Becca-chick. But he's got a point though. Donald nodded at Bumper through the rearview mirror.

"The man's got a point, Bumper. S'probably your fault they ran out of gas."

"What? How could it be my fault?"

"Dude, Fat Amy was about to gas up their bus when you threw that burrito at her face. She probably forgot about it since she'd be busy thinking between cleaning up and killing you."

"Pssh. As if. I'm not going back to pick up those losers."

Donald rarely spoke up when Bumper had the floor. He let him do all the talking because it was easier that way. Because Donald was laid-back like that. It's been that way ever since their freshman year at Barden.

However, when Donald **does** choose to speak up and be all serious about it, it was firm and it was nothing short of final. So you can bet that the B-man shut his mouth when he said:

"Well, I'm the driver, so I say we're going back for them."


	2. Chapter 2

Lilly hooked a finger through the Bella scarf tied around her neck. While it wasn't uncomfortably tight per se, the action helped her relax a bit. "A bit" being the keyword.

She bit her lip. They were out of gas. They were out of gas.

What now?

"Fucker," she heard Fat Amy mutter, "He hung up on me."

Judging from the tone of her voice, she could very well imagine that Fat Amy was almost ready to strangle and put Bumper through a choke hold until he tapped out.

"Well, this is just great! Absolutely fabulous."

On the other hand, Aubrey was out for blood. Lilly could feel the murderous aura roll off the blond in waves, despite her attempts to keep a poised facade. Perhaps, if she was born with claws, Aubrey would've mauled Bumper's face long ago. Like a harpy.

With that thought, Lilly scooted a bit more closer to her side of the bus. Better keep herself off the harpy lady's radar, then.

And to think she was quite pleasant at that _Party in the USA_ sing-a-long a few minutes ago.

"You okay, girl?"

Lilly could only give Cynthia Rose a timid nod. After all, being stuck without gas in the middle of the road, and possibly forfeiting the Semi-Finals and their chance to advance to Nationals, wasn't so bad right?

Right.

She went back to the beat she was going through a while ago. She was trying to get a feel of their set list, and while she knew that Aubrey wanted to perform the routine exactly as the previous Bellas did in the past, Lilly decided there was no harm in knowing the beats.

Plus, it was more material for her to practice on, too. Beatboxing isn't exactly easy, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh my god. Is that who I think it is?"

Lilly looked up from the book she was reading. Some of the girls had crowded near the driver's seat and was looking out of the front window. It was already 3:43 in the afternoon - thirty minutes and around thirty cars had already passed since they ran out of gas.

And a little over three hours before the Semi-Finals.

Curious to see what the commotion was all about, Lilly squeezed her way in between Chloe and Becca (she was still wary of Aubrey).

"What's going on?" she asked no one in particular.

"I think it's the Trebles." Lilly could hear the amused quirk in Becca's tone.

_The Trebles?_

She leaned over and tried to take a closer look. As the other bus drew nearer, she started make out the features of the guy behind the wheel.

Olive skin. Prominent nose. Black-rimmed glasses.

_Donald._

Lilly tried to force back the small smile that was threatening to grow on her lips.

They came back. They came back to help them.

Right?

Suddenly, her thoughts went back to Day 1 of Bella Boot Camp:

_"The Trebles don't respect us."_

While Lilly thought that there was probably a deeper meaning behind Aubrey's blatant annoyance with the Treblemakers - hidden behind her trademark upper-class poise and snobbery, of course – she could agree that it was probably something that didn't came out of the blue. Almost everybody, including herself, was new to the group, so what did they know? Chloe is the only other old Bella, and while she doesn't go out of her way to spite the Trebles, she doesn't try to excuse their behavior either.

_"The Trebles don't respect us."_

She wonders what Aubrey thinks of this development.

"Damn it, what do they want now?"

Becca shot her an incredulous look.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe they've come back to help us?"

Aubrey's lips compressed into an even thinner line. She did not like that patronizing tone and attitude one bit. She gave Becca an irritated look and spoke in a clipped tone:

"Help us? Them? Tell me, why the hell would they do that?"

She straightened herself up on her seat and raised her chin a little higher.

"If it weren't for them, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation now, would we? If they weren't so juvenile and acted like a mature and sane person, they wouldn't have thrown the burrito at Amy now, would they, Becca?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure Bumper got dropped often when he was a baby," Amy piped up from her seat. "That or he ate too much microwaved food… You know, the radiation affecting his brain growth and everything."

Aubrey gave her a look, then went back to Becca, who was now returning the favor. The two girls glared at each other, making the others squirm uncomfortably (or in Cynthia Rose's case, lean in anticipatingly) in their seats.

_Harpy lady alert! Harpy lady alert!_

On the other hand, Chloe, ever the peacemaker, bless her ginger soul, tried to diffuse the situation.

"Come on girls, we don't know for sure so I suggest you both relax, and let me handle of it, okay?"

She turned to Aubrey and gave her a pointed look. "Aubrey, you're gonna have to come with me."

Silence.

**"Aubrey…"** A warning.

With a huff, the blond finally stood up, but with a slight tantrum in her action.

"Fine. Let's see what they want."

Chloe broke into a proud smile. She then took her old friend by the arm and headed down the bus.

"Great! As for you girls, stay here, okay?"

And before the remaining ones can murmur their agreement, the duo was out the door and walking towards the familiar bus that was now parked across the street.

Somewhere in the back, Cynthia Rose nodded her head in approval.

"That was hot."


End file.
